Sonic Guardian
by Shadow Commando
Summary: (Counterfeit Manic Revamped) A young hedgehog named Scourge sees his chance to escape his abusive captivity at the hands of Robotnik by stealing the identity of a missing child named Manic, posing as him to have his life and family. His scheme starts out well enough, but he soon learns that nothing is what it seems…
1. Counterfeit Manic

**Just so you all know, this is a rewrite, so while some parts will be similar to Counterfeit Manic, it is not meant to be a cookie cutter imitation of the original, as the story itself will take some very different turns than in CM. It will also be much longer, since this one has a bigger storyline with more content.**

Chapter 1

Slowly, I crawled up the stairs of the basement, each step like a mountain with the condition I was in, but the light ahead was enough to keep me going. However, the higher I climbed, the weaker I felt. I was losing blood, and fast, but if I was going to die, it would at least be in that bright warm glow I had been denied for so long.

Up I went, digging into each step and hoisting myself up over it to repeat the process, if only to be free of the cage I'd known for so long. Finally reaching the basement's door frame, I almost hesitated, fearing that I was at my end, now that I'd made it to what had motivated me up the small mountains I'd just crawled. At the same time, I wasn't going to stay in the cold hard room I'd been trapped in for as long as I could remember, so I grabbed the door frame and feebly pulled myself forward, rising out of the basement like a long buried corpse re-emerging from its tomb.

Finally out! No one else around to abuse me or throw me back in the basement. Just me, and a brightly lit kitchen I'd only gazed at through the crack beneath the door, many times. Now, there were no boundaries before me. Free at last!

I don't remember how long I remained there on my hands and knees, fighting to stay upright as I struggled to breathe, but once I gathered enough willpower, I raised my head to see a phone on the wall, an old model attached by wire to a mounted receiver. Remembering that no one else was around to stop me, I got an idea. The phone was too high and too far away for me to reach, but if I could stand myself all the way up, I might actually have a way out of this, after all.

I don't remember much of anything besides being locked up in a basement, but I vaguely recall something about the numbers 911. Maybe they could help me?

Bracing for the worst, I kept one hand over the gash in my chest to prevent more blood from seeping out as I hoisted myself up onto my knees and gasped loudly as the wound stretched and burned, despite my best efforts to comfort it, but that did little to stop me, since the alternative was staying here and possibly dying when I had a way out.

Using every last bit of reserved strength, I slowly, carefully stepped up onto my feet and staggered toward the phone, each step a battle against gravity. With my temperature dropping, I felt like I was climbing a snowy mountain, each step carrying the potential of a fatal misstep, but with each one I took, my ticket out of here got closer.

Tired, weakened, and getting colder, I kept up my grueling pace, painstakingly pressing on toward my only means of calling for help, moving nearer and nearer, until at last, I reached out to touch it.

How good the plastic covering felt in my hand...

I finally pulled it back toward me, leaning against the wall to maintain balance since my other hand was applying pressure to the wound. Putting the device to my ear, all I heard was an electronic buzzing. I knew I was supposed to do something else, but couldn't remember what- at least not until I looked at the numbers on the phone and remembered the 911 code. Dialing those three magic numbers, I placed it to my ear, once more, and waited with baited breath.

Three agonizing rings later, I finally heard a click, followed by a strong male voice announcing, "911 Emergency Services!"

So I was right about the number! Too bad I couldn't remember where I learned about it.

"I…I've been stabbed," I stuttered, my voice weaker than I'd expected.

"Is this a medical emergency?" asked the voice on the other end.

Gee, let me think on it.

"I'm dying!" I sputtered.

"Where are you, right now?" the operator asked.

"I…don't know," I replied, really not sure, since the basement was the only place I clearly remembered being.

"I need an address so the paramedics can reach you," the operator pointed out.

"I don't know where I am...I've been kidnapped," I blurted out, remembering my original plan.

"Wait," the operator paused, "what's your name?"

I racked my brain for the name I needed.

"It's Maurice," I replied, "Maurice Hedgethorn."

After a moment of silence, the voice came back and asked, "You the Hedgethorn kid that was taken, 5 years ago?"

"Yes."

It was a lie, of course. The only name I'd been given was "Scourge." Might have been because Robotnik just didn't like me since he loved to remind me I was, and always had been a scourge- before preceding to lash me with the belt for whatever sin I'd allegedly committed. The name I'd given to the phone operator was a lie, but Maurice himself wasn't. I knew, because I'd read about him. Rummaged through some boxes that had been left in the basement and found some newspapers and magazines. One of them contained an article spilling all sorts of details on a young hedgehog named Maurice Hedgethorn, or Manic, as his family sometimes called him, because of his hyper active personality, and he'd apparently gone missing at the Riverdale Mall on March 8th, when he was only 10. The article had many pictures of "Manic" and his family, a blue brother named Sonic, a purplish sister named Sonia, and two parents that resembled them. The pictures showed them doing stuff like blowing out birthday candles, riding a boat, playing in leaf piles, and other such things which looked strange to someone who'd never experienced any of that, though, the smiles on their faces gave all of it a certain appeal that I couldn't place my finger on, but wanted to experience, anyway. And I was willing to do anything to make that happen- including pretending to be the lost child they were looking for.

"I was stabbed," I continued.

"Who did it?" the operator asked.

"Robotnik's nephew, Snively," I replied.

The man who kept me in his basement, Robotnik, had left his nephew at home to watch the place while he went to work, wherever that was.

Snively, as Robotnik called him, came downstairs and decided to "have some fun with me." The kind Robotnik wanted when he "had needs" and used me to satisfy them. Noticing Snively's smaller and weaker frame, I tried fighting him off when he kissed me, but he got angry and pulled a knife, threatening to gut me if I didn't cooperate, and then made another attempt at me, but even with a knife pointed at me, I still wasn't about to let him touch me. Unfortunately for me, Snively wasn't

afraid to carry out his threat and slashed me across my chest.

Something inside me snapped and I can't remember what happened next, just that I came to my senses some time later to find Snively lying on the floor, slashed up worse than I was, unmoving and probably dead. I was losing a lot of blood from the knife wound, and might not last much longer. Robotnik would see to it that I didn't if I was still breathing when he came home and found out what I did to his nephew.

"Who is Snively? And who is Robotnik?" the operator asked.

"Robotnik took me," I lied, "He took me at the mall. He left Snively to watch me, but he cut me."

A convincing story for how I got to the fat man's house, and if Manic hadn't been found by now, then he was probably dead, so he likely wasn't going to show up and expose me. If I was gonna be Manic, then Robotnik would be the kidnapper. It's not like they'd believe a word he said, and last I checked, Snively wouldn't be saying much of anything.

"Alright, listen to me, Maurice," explained the operator, "are you able to see the address number on the mailbox?"

Hope began to fade as I realized my only means of rescue might not find me, all because of a few numbers.

"No, it's too far away," I croaked, feeling weaker.

"Then can you get a better look at it?" asked the voice on the other end.

As in go outside and look straight at it? Wouldn't be a problem, except I could barely stand.

"I'll…try…but I feel so weak," I replied, faintly.

"I'll see if I can track the call, in the meantime. Just hang in there," he assured me.

At least he was trying to help, so I wasn't completely alone.

"Right…thanks," I whispered, setting the phone on the kitchen table and heading for the front door.

Last chance to make it out of here. I ignored the pain, exhaustion, and fear holding me back like invisible hands as I took step after step, fighting angrily to reach the front door. I could almost see the grass and trees I'd once known before I came to this place, which propelled me further toward the last barrier between me and a world forbidden.

Grabbing the knob, I gasped labored breaths. This was it, once I opened it, there was no going back. If Robotnik knew I'd made it outside, he'd never forgive me, so I was taking my fate into my own hands. But better the risk than to remain here and never know what might have been.

Turning the worn brass, I pulled the large door back, nearly falling as I stepped out of the way and gazed upon the forest surrounding the house that had been my whole world up to this point. Despite the foliage, I could tell the expanse went on for miles and miles. So much space right outside my walls, and I'd never even seen it until now!

I wanted to run outside and bask in the freedom I'd discovered, but all that effort I'd put into getting past the front door had worn me out, and the exhaustion wasn't subsiding. If anything, I was starting to feel dizzy. Looking down at the blood now completely soaking the rags I called a t-shirt and shorts, it wasn't hard to see why. I desperately needed help, and the only way I'd get it was to get the code on the mailbox. However, my body seemed to have reached its limit. Even the invigorating forest smell did little to keep me going, yet I pushed onward, determined to get the address, but in the end, it was a losing battle, and I fell forward, too weak to even crawl.

All my fear, all my pain, everything I had been subjected to came rushing out of me as I screamed to the heavens, every negative feeling inside me releasing itself through the broken dam that I had become. So much torture and humiliation endured, just to be done in by an elusive set of numbers. As my vision darkened, I felt a slight comfort in the back of my mind, knowing that I would at least be free of all that now.

For all my failure, I could take shelter in knowing that I had freed myself from Robotnik, who would never harm me again. Even if I never lived to see freedom, I had taken my fate into my own hands...


	2. Welcome Back

**No, I'm not dead, just been dealing with a lot of issues back home that required my attention, some for better, some for worse. One example would be getting used to my new factory job which lasts from 4 pm to midnight on a normal day. Difficult, but I can't complain about the moneez. But now that I've finally gotten the hang of that, it shouldn't get in the way of my ability to write, anymore, so updates should come faster, especially since this was a difficult chapter to rewrite, but here it is. Read on!**

"We found him!"

For five years, we'd waited to hear those very words, to know that Maurice Hedgethorn, who'd taken from us had finally been found. If nothing else, it would at least bring us closure to know the fate of the son and brother we'd lost. But the next part of the phone call changed our lives in a single moment: "He's alive."

Five years of wondering where he was, fearing he was dead, and despairing of ever seeing him again. Five years to the very day he'd vanished, and he'd survived! We wasted no time getting to the hospital he'd been brought to, hoping to bring him back home and put this nightmare behind us, at last, only to discover he was in a coma after losing blood from a large gash in his chest, likely from a knife. There were also many cuts and bruises all over his body, visible after his fur had been trimmed shorter.

The most devastating part, however, was how much thinner and weaker he looked, compared to me. Except for my blue fur, I was his identical twin! Or at least, I had been, but while I had kept myself in good shape, over the years, and built up plenty of muscle, Maurice- or "Manic"- looked thin and weak, like he'd barely been fed anything since he was taken.

Watching my mom, Aleena, cup his face in her hands, trying to coo him awake, while choking back her tears made it harder. My dad- an older version of me, named Jules- held her from behind to comfort her as she did her best to tend to her long lost baby. My younger sister, an eggplant colored 13 year old named Sonia, could only stand back with me until dad finally got mom to sit herself down, allowing the two of us to see our long lost bro up close.

Sonia touched Manic's face, feeling his button nose and cheek bones, as if to make sure he was real, but holding herself back, as if afraid that touching him too rough might harm him. Laughable in retrospect, but given how frail he looked, even I felt cautious around him. I couldn't tell how badly he'd been hurt, but it was clear he hadn't been fed regularly, which was probably why seeing him hooked up to an IV was the only time I felt good about seeing needles inside someone. That, and seeing his chest slowly rise and fall were what reminded me that this was Manic's hospital visit, and not his funeral we were looking at, but even so, I found it hard to get that image out of my head. I would have reminded everyone else that we weren't paying our last respects, but I didn't want to risk filling their heads with images that only I was currently burdened with.

That was two days ago. Since then, we'd stayed by Manic's side, watching over him like Guardian Angels, though Dad still had to go to work during the day, but the rest of us remained. It was hard enough waiting for someone who'd been lost for so long to simply wake up from a coma that could last months, or even years, but even worse was the fact that his kidnapper, a man named Ivo Robotnik, was still on the loose. That carried the risk of him simply walking into the room, which was probably why Mom had a .45 caliber handgun strapped to her hip. She'd never been the violent type, but she'd do whatever it took to protect her babies, like any good mother would. If the fat man came through that door, he'd get a third eye before he got halfway in.

It was saturday, so Dad didn't have to go to work, but it was still early in the morning, so everyone else was snoozing in their sleeping bags, which dad went home and brought back when we'd all decided to stay. I'd been up all night, "guarding" Manic while everyone else went to bed, and I did feel tired, but couldn't fall asleep, so I pulled out Manic's old Gameboy Color and started a new play through on his favorite game, Pokemon Silver. Both were presents he'd gotten for Christmas when he and I were 4, so it carried a lot of sentimental value for me. I'd already played through the game I got that same christmas, which was Pokemon Gold, so Manic's game wasn't anything new, but nothing kills time like handheld games. By the time the sun started to shine through the hospital window, I'd gotten a Storm Badge AND a Ninetales that I'd become well acquainted with. But as the others began to stir, I decided it was time to save and shut down.

"Is he awake yet?" asked Sonia sleepily as she awoke from her sleeping bag on the floor.

I just shook my head as I set the gameboy on the table next to me.

"Not yet, but it could always be worse," I replied, reminding my sister of the dread filled question that plagued our every waking moments for half a decade. I could still remember wondering if we'd ever see him again, as recently as the week before, though I couldn't dwell on such memories for long since we'd all had 5 years to wonder about his fate. Having him here was something entirely different…even if he wasn't awake yet.

"I just want this to end," whined my eggplant colored counterpart, "I just want to go home and start over again. Haven't we been through enough?"

I should have been more specific.

"We're much closer to doing that now than we were when Maurice first went missing."

Sonia slumped a bit where she was sitting, now robbed of her reason for complaining, for all the good it did in making her feel better.

"I guess, but…it's taking too long."

The persistence in her whining was matched only by her lack of imagination. Irritation made it easy to forget she was only 13 and hardly capable of piecing together complaints that were clever in any respect.

"You could go somewhere with Mom or Dad. I could call you guys if anything happens," I offered.

Right about then, Dad began to stir from his sleep.

"No," replied Sonia, "I want to be here when he wakes up."

"I think we all do," said Dad, sitting up, "But your brother has a point. Maurice is closer to rejoining us than he's ever been, and the least we can do is have patience while we wait."

Sonia shrugged, not having much more to say.

"I know this isn't easy, but once he wakes up, we can all go home and start over. He'll need to adapt more than any of us after what he's been through, so it'll be like raising up a toddler again, so I guess that means you get to be the older sibling for a while," smiled Jules.

Sonia chuckled, which made me feel better, now that everyone's mood seemed to have lifted a bit. It would need to stay that way once Manic came to, since moods tend to feed off each other, for better or worse, and dwelling on the bad things that had happened wasn't going to help anyone get past them.

"We'll have to reintroduce him to all the 'finer points of life' like camping, boating, and game night," I added, wanting to give everyone something to look forward.

Sonia's head almost turned 180 degrees as she turned to look at me like I'd committed blasphemy.

"You left out pizza!" she nearly shrieked, her eye size defying her sockets.

Dad scrambled over to the door and blocked it.

"He can't escape now, make him pay!" he said in a very sinister voice.

Bunch of kidders. But the last time we'd all goofed around like this wasn't recent by any means. The fact that we could do so now was telling.

"I don't think we'll have to worry about any of that much longer," murmured Aleena sleepily from Manic's bedside, now awake.

"What do you mean?" perked up Sonia.

Mom simply said, "Your brother is going to wake up, today."

"How do you know?" I asked, my curiosity aroused.

"Last night, Skye called and told me that Maurice was going to wake up today," Mom replied, sitting herself on a chair next to the bed.

If Skye's prediction came true, this wouldn't be the first time. He was the one who told us Manic was going to be rescued, and the next day, we got a call saying he'd been brought to the hospital. Ever since his parents died, Skye'd had this unusual ability to predict things before they happened. He didn't get a weird look on his face or go into a trance, he merely became aware of important things about to happen.

"He hasn't been wrong before, so if he thinks Manic will be alright, then I feel a lot better," said Dad, using Maurice's nickname.

At that moment, Sonia snapped her gaze in Manic's direction.

"What is it?" asked Aleena, looking at him.

"Manic's arm just moved!" squeaked the eggplant hedgie, pointing to her unconscious brother.

All eyes turned to the green hedgehog laying on the hospital bed, watching for signs of life, but noticed nothing inconsistent.

"What did his arm do?" asked Dad, wanting details.

"It just shifted a little, but I really did see it," Sonia replied defensively.

"I believe you, I just wanted to know the specifics," said Dad.

"Just give him some time, he'll come to," I chipped in.

"No, this has gone on long enough!" declared Mom, as she got on her knees in front of the bed and began praying, having lost all patience now that she was this close to seeing her baby boy again.

I thought she was overreacting just a bit, but then dad joined her. Even Sonia buried her face in folded hands, asking the supreme father to bring back Maurice just a little bit faster. I myself wasn't the most devout person, but it couldn't hurt to try, so I joined them at my brother's side to petition for his speedy recovery. I silently asked God to bring back Manic, and in return, I promised to watch out for him, my sister, my mom, and even my dad. No more fights, I just wanted us all back together again, and would do everything to help us live and love as we always should have. Sitting around waiting for Manic to return to life left us all with very little to do, for the time being, but the difference in everyone was noticeable. Sonia gained a new spark I'd never seen in her before, mom got her's back, dad looked a lot less exhausted than he typically did (and a bit younger, too), and, as a result, I found myself with far less to worry about than I was used to. 5 years of having to hold the family together almost single handedly, of having to keep mom and dad's heads on their shoulders, help Sonia grow up normally, and convince everyone that everything would be alright, and it all came to a screeching halt when Manic turned up. The silence was, as they say, deafening. The nightmare would finally end for us, and we could all start over again. Things weren't perfect before Manic was taken, but I would not wish that sort of travesty on any family. And who said we couldn't come out of this stronger than before? The affair had taken its toll on everyone, and we certainly weren't emerging from this unscathed. I wanted to put this whole thing behind me, but deep down, I knew it wasn't over. Manic would still need to recover from something far worse than what the rest of us had gone through, and he'd need our help. At least this time, I had experience under my belt, and a good idea of what to expect, but the best part of all was that I'd have help in this. I wasn't the only one waiting for Manic to come back, and neither was I the only one who would get him back on his feet. Mom, Dad, me, and Sonia would all be there for him. We would give him back the life that was taken from him and help him relearn what he'd forgotten. No one had bigger disagreements with him than me before he was taken, but even I knew that no one loved him more than us. We were his family, and we'd always be there for him. We'd all been through hell in our own way, but now we could finally help each other get out. The family that suffers together heals together.

"...Amen," I whispered, opening my eyes to see Manic's chest rise as he inhaled more deeply than usual.

"He's waking up," I told the others.

(Scourge's Point Of View)

I remembered being stabbed, watching my own blood cascade out of me, and the cold void of death taking me, shortly after.

So why did I suddenly feel warm and comforted?

I wanted to open my eyes, but became aware of intense exhaustion weighing down every inch of me. Even my eyelids felt like lead, but my curiosity was just as overpowering, so I continued my struggle, working whatever muscles control eye lid movement, until the blinding light went from flutters to full blast, burning my vision as I attempted to take in my bright surroundings. But despite the intensity of the whole thing, all I could muster was a soft gasp.

"Manic?"

That name. Someone was calling to me…no, someone was calling to the boy I was impersonating. I turned to look at where the voice came from, and as my vision slowly came into focus, the brightness gave way to a brightly colored room with four very distinct figures standing and kneeling next to the bed I was in. Seeing them more clearly, I recognized them as Manic's family. The two younger hedgehogs were obviously Sonic and Sonia, while the older blue hedgehog was Manic's dad, Jules. My focus, however, was fixed on the purple furred woman knelt in front of me. I knew she was Manic's mother, Aleena, but I was unprepared for the welcoming presence I sensed. Whenever Robotnik came near me, all I felt was a repulsive disdain coming from him, along with a dark hunger that I didn't want to think about. Aleena, on the other hand, was worlds apart from that man, being nothing like him. I felt no fear or anger coming from her, only an emotion that I had once known but could not place my finger on. Something warm and inviting...

"It's over, Maurice," she cooed, "You're safe with us now."

Hearing her call me that name, like I was her son and she was my mother, it was beyond what words could describe. I'd never felt accepted by anyone, and even now, I felt something inside me pulling me back, cautious hesitation warning me against letting anyone too close. But at the same time, I knew I needed her. Badly.

Feeling somewhat stronger, I still had to put considerable effort into raising my arm so I could extend it to Aleena, but soon found it resting in hers. She didn't wait for me to come to her, she came to me, and held my hand in her hand, which was joined by Sonic's, Sonia's, and Jules'. I felt my heart flutter as their warm palms engulfed my right hand, but then the man named Jules said something else that I wasn't ready for.

"So long as my lungs draw breath, Manic, you will never have to worry about him reaching you ever again," he practically growled.

From the way he gently squeezed my hand, I felt nervous about what he was capable of doing, but at the same time, the sincere protectiveness his voice carried wrapped itself around me like a thick, warm blanket. I knew he meant what he said, which made most of my fear melt away.

"Good," I sighed, still exhausted.

My now relaxed state made me aware of how tired I still felt. I would finally have the perfect family to look after me and keep Robotnik away, IF he ever found out where I was, which would be pretty hard to do with my new name. It all felt so dream like- appropriate, as I felt myself drifting off again, since I wasn't quite ready to wake up. Then I felt a hand touch my cheek.

"Hmm?" I mumbled as my eyes opened to see Aleena gently touching my face.

"It's alright," she assured me, that intense look still in her eyes, "just rest now."

How I wished I wasn't tired and wired to IVs. For the first time, I actually wanted to feel close to someone else, to feel so much more of that warmth that she radiated. If only I could figure out what it was called. But the hospital room and everyone in it faded into my dreams as I drifted to sleep, so many worries that once plagued me now just a memory...


End file.
